Play The Games
by UV.IB
Summary: Erik is designing the Hunger Games arena, fitting it to a very... Talented tribute.
1. Chapter 1

The Hunger games will occur in a little more than a month. The preparations for the big crew attempting to stay in the district begun, and trains full of peacekeepers has arrived – there are much more peacekeepers during the games time, to avoid what later called "The 75th rebellion".

The television worked, displaying one of the 27 channels transmission the exact same show.

The Hunger Games renewed themselves with a different, new person to design this year's arena. He had been through amazing and untold things during his life, and was included in some of the new world's wonders, before coming back to design the games. This year, it was promised, will be a year that will make every quarter quell look like a mosquito next to an elephant.

It seemed to be as the cameras can't get a clear view of the extolled designer, known as "Erik"'s, face. It seemed like he was wearing some kind of mask. On the other hand, there was no problem getting a clear view of his voice – he had a voice not to be described as anything but amazing. It was very impressive, yet melodic, and it sounded like he can start sing one of the ancient operas at ones, without even making an effort.

The interviews with him were many, striking one after another, as to add to the fear of the people in the districts from the games a fear from the cruel arena. He didn't agree, even though he had been asked almost in every interview, to tell about his plans for the arena – he just mentioned that the new arena will be "Different, very different, from what you've been used to so far." There were assumes of an arena including another, underground part, or an arena full of secret passages leading from one edge to another – both things which "Erik" has already proved as good at.

He seemed to be very uncomfortable surrounded by all the cameras, making every interview shorter than the one before. The tenth and eleventh interviews, for instance, were only two or three minutes long.

This year, actually, it seemed like the new "treasure" is the only important thing – interviews with president Neige, for example, have been moved to more comfortable times to have time to interview the man, seems to be moved by a pressed schedule. The interest he makes hadn't got away from his unclear-colored eyes, and he even joked about it – little, silently: "So Erik, how does it feel to be famous?"

"I have never imagined that life in the spotlight will be so shiny – I am all dazzled, feeling like it's the time when the snow is melting and the spring comes by." Came the cynical, rebellious answer. This man respected no-one.

The break included commercials to all of the things you can't imagine living without – new makeup, new jewelries, new tools cutting apples into a heart shape – everything a normal house need, to be found only in the Capitol or districts one and two.

The show came back to the architect, seemed to be already exhausted by the unpleasant attention and satrted answering in a dry, monotone voice you can't see how a man that spoke with such a beautiful voice a moment ago can speak in.

"Come on, turn the television off, this is just getting silly." Said Gustave while tuning his violin "we need to go to the party tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

Silva, the ambassador of District Seven that wore a big, blue wig matches his eyelashes (that were pink), looked down at the girls' mob standing at the foot of the Tributes Stage, while the girls looked at him patiently. The girls were standing inside the building, all squeezed to each other, waiting to see who'll be the next victim of the Hunger Games. They separated the girls from the boys to avoid "rebellious actions" that may occur if the girls and the boys will see the chosen one of the opposite gender before been chosen themselves. The crowd outside saw both boys and girls from a big screen that was hanging before the building.

Silva coughed. "It is so good to see you all young fair ladies, here at the 83th Hunger Games!" The girls remained silent, still looking at him with big eyes. "As I assume you remember, the tradition of the hunger games began years ago, when the district betrayed the Capitol that gave them food and support. They restarted the rebellion seven years ago, but luckily for us, the order returned a while after. And now, let us greet the female tribute of the Hunger Games!"

During that time, Phoenix the boy's ambassador finished her speech and pulled a note out of a bowl. "And our boy in the Hunger Games will be… Raoul De Chagny!" The boys stared at Raoul, which climbed up the male-tributes stage. He glanced at the unending crowd spreading at his feet, looking at him, with a blank expression. He didn't look scared or horrified as the tributes were years before, but clearly had some better thing he could think about doing than standing on that stage, looking at the crowd looking at him. But he was scared - very scared, actually - the only reason he looked so calm was because he was well trained to look as comfort as he can when this moment will arrive: Bad luck was going through their family for ages.

Outside, whispers went through the crowd. The boy's father survived the Hunger Games years ago, and Raoul will inherit his fortune when the father passes away. He looked directly at the camera, and nodded slightly.

Silva focused on his earphone for a moment, and then inserted his own hand into the girls' bowl, and pulled out a small folded paper. "The female tribute from District Seven is… Christine Daaé!" Christine, her big blue eyes gleaming with tears, walked toward the tributes stage. Outside, Gustave Daaé, District Seven's musical instruments maker who was a gifted violinist himself, ran through the crowd and tried to get to the door. "No! Christine!" He shouted desperately. The peacekeepers came and took him, but he continued fighting. "No! You won't take her!"

Silva and Phoenix grabbed the tributes' hands and pulled them up. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever at your favor!"


	3. Chapter 3

Raoul sat in the train's living room. The mentor that will train them - whoever he or she was - didn't leave the bedroom yet. The girl he will fight against didn't leave hers as well. He tried to convince her to come out of the room, if only because he was curious to see who this girl was, but she refused. She just sat in the room and cried. Her voice was familiar as she cried and yelled at him to leave her alone, but he couldn't quite recognize her. The ambassadors - who Raoul discovered to be drank, impatient people with fake smiles all over their outlandish painted face - drank in the room next door some crappy too expensive alcoholic drink. Raoul almost slapped the back of head with his hand - "What kind of language is that?!" his father's voice spoke in Raoul's mind "A future victor should not speak like that!" He sighed and rubbed the back of his head, before concentrating again at the book he held. It was an old, very old book, tells about humanity being followed by the government. He didn't know exactly what "government" was, but it seemed to be very similar with the Capitol. He found this book in his library, and decided to bring it with him. It might be considered as "A Rebellious Action", but he convinced himself he did nothing wrong - he was only reading an old book, and that's all. "Why are you wasting your time reading instead of preparing yourself for the Games about to come?" Said his father's voice in his mind. He raised his eyes nervously, and discovered it wasn't in his mind at all. His father held a light smile. "What a bad luck it is, doesn't it."

"Papa." muttered Raoul. "Why are you here?"

Mr. De-Chagny took the sit before his son, and looked at him with his smart, blue eyes. Raoul stared directly at his father. They both sat still and silent.

"It was on purpose." murmured Raoul. "They planned it all."

"No, they didn't." His father's voice sounded reproaching, warning. "They couldn't watch such a misfortune to come." Raoul nodded slowly. "Of course they couldn't. What a fool I am." He laughed a short, fake laugh. He may die in the future Game, but he did not want to meet an unpleasant accident before.

"Raoul." Said Mr. De-Chagny after a while "Do not lose. Do never lose. No matter who or what you are facing, do not lose." Raoul saw the tiny tears in the corners of his father's eyes. "Do not. Don't you dare to lose the Hunger Games. Do not dare." Raoul looked at his father worriedly. "What happened?" He asked. His father shook his head. "Nothing, Raoul. Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you won't lose, no matter what you're facing." Raoul lowered his head. "Papa…" He struggled to keep his voice still. "Papa, I can't. I can't do it…"

"Raoul, what's the matter?" asked the father softly. Tears flood Raoul's eyes. "What's the matter?! I may die in a week from now, that's the matter! I, and the girl, we would have to kill people, to kill children to survive! I do not want to have this fate… Even if I'll win the Hunger Games, I would be a murderer for the rest of my life! How can you live with the guilt, papa?"

Mr. De-Chagny shook his head. "I prefer to kill than to be killed."


End file.
